7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Ace
“ W hy the hell did you do that, Ace?” Xander snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut. “You better fucking hope that paparazzi guy doesn’t sue us.”
It’s been a day since my meltdown with that asshole and his camera. I’m still fuming at myself for losing my shit like that. It feels like forever since I last lost it, and that was when that biker wannabe had me by the neck at my mom’s place. I’m not fucking proud of it. It’s all over the news, a constant reminder of my fuck up, blaring every time I turn the TV on.
This entire situation is an absolute fucking mess. Right now, I should be in the studio, putting the finishing touches on our album before its release next week, right before we hit the road for our tour. Instead, I’m stuck dealing with this bullshit—bullshit I caused. I am completely in the dark about what will come next.
“I already fucking told you, I just snapped,” I say, my voice filled with anger, as I grab another beer from the fridge without bothering to offer one to the guys. As I twist off the lid and flick the cap onto the counter, I feel their intense stares burning into me. “Fuck that paparazzi idiot and his damn camera. I called Anita and asked her to reach out and offer a replacement. We’ve got way bigger problems than that. After making such a big deal about ditching the label, we’re going to look like complete fucking idiots. Lionel’s probably loving this shit. I can already picture his smug face, grinning about how we had to cancel the tour. He’ll be out there, boasting that his label is the only reason for our success, and without his support, we’ll fade into obscurity like countless other bands.” I take a swig, feeling the cool liquid slide down my throat, downing half the bottle. The stress is eating away at me, and the booze takes the edge off a little.
Theo jumps in, “We can still pull it off. We just gotta find another drummer for the tour. It’s not like other bands haven’t done it before.”
Xander and I exchange a look, both of us ready to tear into him. Theo always seems to come up with these half-assed ideas that just push our buttons.
Xander’s the first to bite. “The tour’s in two weeks. Asking someone to learn our entire set in that time, that’s a total joke, Theo, and you know it.”
“Like I said, other bands have pulled it off. Why can’t we?” Theo responds, still off in fantasy land.
My eyes narrow as I shoot him a disapproving look. “Maybe if we had more time, but two weeks? No way in hell anyone’s learning our entire set that fast. Those other bands probably had months to get their new drummer up to speed.”
Theo’s gaze flickers back and forth between Xander and me. “Well,” he insists, “I think it might work.”
Alright, I’ll play along with this idiot. “Maybe,” I reply, not buying any of the shit coming out of his mouth, but willing to entertain the idea instead of announcing the cancellation of the tour. Not to forget that we couldn’t pull off one fucking show on our own.
Xander shoots me a look like I’ve lost my fucking mind. I make my way towards the table and settle down into a seat. “Maybe it could work,” I say. “I have no fucking idea if it will or not, but one thing I do know is that when we first started out, I’d have jumped at the chance to play to sold-out crowds. I would’ve practiced my ass off twenty-four-seven just to snag a spot playing with the hottest band on the planet. That opportunity would’ve been a no-brainer for me.”
“Seriously, you’d have ditched us just like that?” Theo asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Hell yeah, I’d have done it without a second thought,” I snap back, not even hesitating.
Theo smirks. “Well, I would’ve convinced the guys to get rid of our shitty guitarist, anyway.”
I casually shrug off his attempts to provoke a reaction from me. “Listen, it could work if we find someone who’s willing to work their ass off and is dedicated enough to fill in for Nate on the tour. That’s all there is to it.”
“It’s not happening,” Xander declares, his head shaking in disbelief. “There’s no way someone can learn our set that fast. We’re just delaying the inevitable. We gotta call off the tour.”
Theo’s eyebrows furrow as he responds, “Why?”
Xander gives him that look, the kind that says, “Are you really this fucking dumb?”
“Seriously?” he says. “Who on earth do we know that can step up and learn our set in just two weeks? Even if someone can cover for Nate, how the hell do we know our songs will keep that same vibe? Each drummer has their own unique style. We just got our old sound back, and now you wanna mess with it? Plus, who the fuck would even be available at such short notice?”
“Scarlet can handle it,” Theo says confidently, finishing his beer and leaning back in his chair.
Xander and I exchange a look, and it’s clear we’re both thinking the same thing. No fucking way she’s coming on tour after all the shit that’s happened between me and her.
“No,” Xander says flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Theo gets up from the chair. “What about you, Ace?”
“No way,” I reply firmly, my voice resolute. I’ve heard her scream my name more times than I can count, watched her come undone orgasm after orgasm, and there’s no way in hell I’m reliving that every time I see her on tour. But I’m not about to share any of that with these guys.
Theo heads over to the fridge and yanks it open. “Back in the day, Scar and Nate would go head-to-head in these little beat battles. The whole point of the game was to see who could make the sickest beat.” He snatches two beers and slams the door shut before returning to the table. “Nate’s pretty damn good, but sometimes Scar would beat him. Think about it, man. She plays just like Nate, and she’s just as fucking good. If Nate can’t make it, who better to step in than someone who learned from him and can actually beat him?”
“Here you go, Xander,” Theo says, handing Xander a cold beer, then shifting his focus towards me. “See, asshole, this is what being polite looks like.” He pops the cap off his beer, sending it flying in my direction. “So, what do you guys think?”
I grab my beer from the table and take a long swig, purposely avoiding Xander’s gaze so Theo doesn’t pick up on anything. I know how he operates—if he puts two and two together, Nate will hear about it before the day’s over.
“No fucking way,” Xander says, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head. He’s worried it’ll lead to trouble, that I won’t be able to keep it in my pants. But he doesn’t need to stress. I’m not going down that road again. Once we’re on tour, there’ll be groupies lined up, and I’ll be damned if I let anything complicate that.
“Ace,” Theo says, his voice snapping me back to reality.
“I’m with Xander on this. I don’t think she’s a good fit,” I reply, but Theo continues talking as if my words hold no weight.
“Seriously, who else can we find last minute? Scarlet’s here, with nothing better to do, and she’s got the time. What other options do we have, for fuck sake? It’s either Scarlet or we let Lionel, and the media make us look like we can’t handle shit ourselves. It’s a fucking no-brainer. Why can’t you dickheads see that?” He leans back, glaring at Xander and me. “I’m telling you, she’s fucking amazing, just like Nate. I wouldn’t say it if she couldn’t handle it, you know?”
Frustration etched on his face, Xander runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "I get it, but there’s more to it than just filling the spot. We’re talking about chemistry and the vibe we’ve put so much work into.”
“Exactly! And if Scarlet can keep that vibe, we should at least give her a shot,” Theo says, standing his ground.
Xander’s gaze lingers on his untouched beer, and I can almost sense the wheels turning in his head. He was so excited to give Walter his big break on tour, and now this whole mess has thrown a wrench in the plans. Finally, he looks up at me, studying my face briefly before turning his attention back to Theo.
“Where the hell is Scarlet, anyway?” Xander asks.
"She’s at the hospital with her parents. She’ll be back soon. Guys, trust me, she’s the only one who can pull this off. And hey, she knows all of us. She’s like our little sister.”
Theo's words hit hard, making it tough to swallow. I take another swig of my beer, desperate to silence the thoughts swirling in my mind.
“If we do this,” Xander starts, and I immediately shoot him a glare that could cut through steel.
Are you fucking kidding me? After all the shit he’s thrown my way, he’s actually considering it? I sit there, dumbfounded, listening to Xander weigh the pros and cons.
“We need someone who can handle the pressure. If she’s got what it takes, it might work,” he says, and my heart starts racing for some reason. "I’m not saying we are, but how do you think she’ll handle the media? You know what those fuckers are like?”
“She can totally handle it,” Theo says. “Even if you bring up replacing Nate, the media won’t give two shits after what Grumpy Pants did yesterday.” I can’t help but feel even more pissed off as his eyes meet mine, his smirk mocking me. “That’s gonna be the only thing anyone talks about for weeks. They wanted a scoop. And you gave them one hell of a fucking scoop.”
As he laughs, I can feel the irritation building, knowing that he is thoroughly enjoying getting under my skin.
I stand up, feeling the frustration coursing through my veins. “Fuck you, asshole,” I respond sharply.
“Hey, come on, man, I was just fucking with you,” he calls out, his voice still laced with laughter.
I storm out of Theo’s house, cursing under my breath as his laughter fills the air, intensifying my irritation.
I’m on the verge of going back in there and punching Theo in the face to make him shut the fuck up. Instead, I flop down on the front steps and bury my face in my hands. What the hell are we even doing? Everything’s going to shit. Maybe we’re not cut out for this. Perhaps Lionel was onto something. We’ll fucking crumble without him.
I can’t even get my head straight to finish editing the album. How on earth am I supposed to get in the zone with all this shit weighing me down? The pressure is suffocating, and the thought of letting Nate down continues to eat at me. We’ve come too far to let it all slip away now. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside, but it feels impossible.
When I hear the metal gates at the end of the driveway creak open, I instinctively lift my head. Scarlet walks in, her head down as she digs through her handbag. She catches my attention right away—her tight top showing off every curve, those tattooed arms on full display, and her short denim skirt that highlights her slender legs. The same legs that were wrapped around me while I was eating her out.
My cock twitches just thinking about it, remembering how she grabbed my hair and rode me hard. I can’t stop staring as she heads my way. The memory of her letting go lingers in my mind, unable to be forgotten. All I want is to plunge back in and hear her scream, just like before. But I know I need to cut this shit out. She’s Nate’s sister, and this kind of thinking is exactly what got me into this mess.
I try to clear my head, focusing on anything—anything but her. If she steps in as Nate’s replacement, I don’t know how I’ll be able to control these overwhelming thoughts. How the fuck am I supposed to avoid her? I’m used to having a handful of groupies eager to please, but none of them gets me going the way she does.
As she continues up the driveway, all I can think about is having her naked and spread out on my bed again. The way she squirmed beneath me, the symphony of her pleasure-filled cries—it’s all too much to handle right now. I shift uncomfortably, forcing my gaze to the ground, trying to will my mind to shut the hell up. But every step she takes draws me deeper into that dangerous territory.
My eyes, despite my best efforts, lift to watch her. When her gaze finally meets mine, she hesitates for a moment, and I can sense the tension in the air. My gaze shamelessly roams over her body as she walks over, taking in every detail.
I catch her swallowing hard, and it brings a mischievous smirk to my face. Good, I’m getting to her, just like she’s getting to me. It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, and with every step she takes closer, the allure becomes harder to resist. She might be Nate’s sister, but right now, all I can think about is how badly I want to fuck her again.
“You’re really making a name for yourself, superstar,” she says playfully. “Remind me not to leave any cameras around.”
“You too,” I groan, the irritation in my tone hard to miss.
Scarlet stops right in front of me, her eyes locking onto mine. “Why? What do you mean?”
Taking a seat beside me, I find my gaze drawn to her elegantly long legs. The butterfly tattoo on the inside of her left ankle catches my eye—damn, I never noticed that before. How could you dickhead when you were too busy fucking her to give a shit about the details?
I try to divert my gaze, but it’s like resisting a magnet that pulls me closer.
“That dickhead, Theo, just ripped into me,” I mutter, tearing my eyes away from her legs. My gaze rests on my house. I should be in the studio, immersed in the music, fine-tuning our damn album, not sitting here, distracted by the girl next to me.
“That’s just how Theo is,” she says, dropping her bag beside her, before turning to face me. “Can I ask why you did it?”
I turn my head toward her, and at that moment, our eyes meet. Her intense green eyes captivate me, drawing my attention to the little things I’ve missed before—the tiny freckles on her nose, the subtle crease in her forehead, and those lips that still make me think about the time I felt them wrapped around my cock. But then my gaze lands on the bruises she’s desperately attempting to conceal, and I have to avert my eyes, consumed with anger at the thought that someone could cause her this much harm.
“No idea. I just lost it. I’m fucked up, Scarlet.”
“No, you’re not, Ace.”
“I am, Scarlet. You don’t even know how fucked up I am.”
“So what if you lost your shit in front of the cameras? It doesn’t mean you’re fucked up. Stupid, sure, for blowing up in front of the media when cameras are recording your every move,” she says, her voice light but serious. I glance at her, noticing the mischievous smirk playing on her lips before she leans in, playfully nudging my shoulder. “Nobody’s saying you’re fucked up, Ace. It’s just how you see yourself.”
“You have no idea,” I mutter, leaning back on the step. “My life’s been fucked up since I was a little kid.”
Her eyes narrow and she gives me a skeptical look, as if she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. “I don’t think that’s true.”
"Oh, it is. My sister and my old man were just itching to walk out the door and never bothered looking back. My mother, well, she couldn’t give two shits about them or me. Didn’t give a shit who was putting their hands on me. It was like I was invisible to her, just another problem she didn’t want to deal with. I learned early on that I had to protect myself because no one else was going to do it for me.”
Pausing, I feel the weight of my words settle heavily on my chest. I’ve never shared this kind of shit with anyone, because it stings. It’s stings that even my own family couldn’t wait to get away from me. That I didn’t matter to anyone. Back in my old town, growing up, people threw their stones at me, branding me as fucked up and worthless. Those labels have clung to me, and I carry them like a goddamn badge of shame.
Scarlet’s words cut through my thoughts. “That doesn’t mean you’re fucked up, Ace. You were raised by messed-up people. That isn’t a reflection on you; it’s on them. I’ve watched Theo deal with the same thing all these years—how much it’s hurt him and how he grapples with his self-worth. His smart-ass attitude is just his way of coping.” Her hand reaches out and gently intertwines her fingers with mine. “But how you were raised is on them, not you. You couldn’t control that shit. They’re just selfish assholes who don’t give a damn about anyone but themselves. You’re better than that. You know it. Look at who you’ve become and what you’ve achieved, despite everything.”
Our eyes meet, and I can feel the sexual tension simmering between us, like a live wire ready to ignite. Her touch electrifies me, causing my eyes to wander over her lips, envisioning the sensation of them against mine. The air becomes heavy, carrying with it unspoken desires and lingering memories. The fire in her eyes reveals the same hunger, the battle to maintain composure.
“Scarlet...” I start, but the words catch in my throat as she leans in.
She bites her lip, but then swiftly retrieves her bag and stands up from the step. “I should go,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. She’s clearly needing to leave before things escalate even further.
“How’s Nate?” I ask, just as she is about to reach the door. The media frenzy has been relentless, making it impossible for me to find a moment to check on him today.
She turns to face me. “He’s doing better. He knows it’ll take a while to recover, but he’s handling it. His biggest concern is letting down the fans, just like I’m sure all of you are," she says, opening the door and walking inside.
I sit there, absorbing Scarlet’s words as they settle deep within me. Yeah, it’s not on me that my family is fucked up, but she doesn’t get how hard it is for me to let my guard down. People only see the version of me that’s locked down tight—walls up, no heart. I keep everyone at arm’s length because if anyone’s gonna bail, it’s gonna be me making the call. No way am I getting left behind again.
I push myself off the step, feeling the rough texture of the concrete beneath my hands, and head back inside.
As I step into the kitchen, the talk revolves around Nate. Scarlet pours herself a glass of juice while Xander and Theo sit at the table, surrounded by empty beer bottles.
As I move toward my seat, I avoid making eye contact with Scarlet, fully aware of Xander’s watchful eyes.
“Yeah, I’m about to go see him,” Theo says, shooting a quick look at Xander as I take my seat at the table. Xander gives him a nod. “Hey Scar, can you come over here for a sec? There’s something we need to discuss.”
With my back turned to Scarlet, I take a seat and direct my attention towards the empty beer bottle.
The sound of her heels clicking on the tiled floor fills the room, followed by the distinct sound of the fridge door opening and closing. Making her way to the table, she chooses the chair on the other side, positioning herself directly across from me. When I glance up, our eyes meet and linger for a brief moment before she averts her gaze towards Theo.
“What’s up?” she asks, taking a sip of her juice.
My gaze traces the graceful arc of her neck, captivated by its subtle movements as she takes a sip. If they actually bring her on tour, I’m totally fucked.
As soon as Xander speaks, she averts her gaze from Theo.
“Scarlet, we’ve been discussing the tour, and you understand how important this is. We’re doing this on our own now, no more label supporting us, and the new album is about to drop.”
“Yeah, Nate and Theo have kept me in on everything.”
“Well, now that Nate’s out of commission, we need someone to fill his spot. And we”—Xander glances at me, and Scarlet catches my eye briefly before turning back to him—“we’d like you to step in for Nate.”
Scarlet’s eyes pause for a moment on each of us, before finally lingering on me for an extra beat.
“Listen, guys, I really do appreciate the offer, but I'm going to have to decline,” she firmly replies.
“Huh?” Theo’s voice rises. “What the fuck, Scar? This is what you’ve always dreamed of—playing in a band, in front of packed stadiums.”
“It is,” Scarlet replies, reaching out to grab Theo’s hand. “It’s always been my dream to play in a band and rock sold-out stadiums, and I’m stoked you’re considering me for this gig. My whole life, I’ve been in Nate’s shadow. In every audition, it’s always about if I can ride on Nate’s fame to make their band popular. My last audition went great, but all they cared about was if I could get Nate to help them score an opening slot. It’s like they can’t see me for my own talent, and it’s exhausting. I really love my brother and I’m super proud of him and you guys, but if I take this gig, it’ll just prove that I’m only valued because of who I’m related to, not for my own skills.”
Damn, I never thought about how much of a shitshow that must be—constantly living in someone else’s shadow, never getting a fair shot, just being seen as a fucking footnote because of who your brother is.
“But hey, Scar, it could be an opportunity,” Theo chimes in, always looking for the bright side.
When Scarlet releases Theo’s hand, she looks at Xander briefly before turning her attention to me. “Look, I really appreciate you considering me to fill Nate’s spot, but to be honest, I don’t think I can do it. I hope you can understand why,” she says, offering a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Standing up, she grabs her glass of juice and walks past Theo, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading into the next room.
“Shit,” Theo mutters, taken aback by the unexpected turn of events.
“Yeah, it’s gotta suck being trapped in your brother’s shadow, never getting noticed for your own talent,” I remark, shaking my head at the injustice she faces.
“You’d know all about that, asshole—always stuck in my fucking shadow,” Theo smirks.
“That’s why you’re stuck playing bass. Can’t handle a real guitar, huh?” I shoot back, my grin mirroring his own.
He smirks, knowing he’s lost, then shifts gears. “I didn’t know Scarlet has been struggling all these years. She didn’t say shit about what she was going through. That’s rough.”
“Yeah,” Xander says, pushing his chair back and standing up.
“Hey, where the hell are you off to?” Theo asks, eyeing Xander as he heads for the door.
“Home first, then I’m going to see Nate,” Xander replies, not looking back.
“Well, I’m coming too,” Theo announces, shoving his chair back and getting up.
I keep my mouth shut, knowing I need to steer clear of the media shitstorm. I stand up from the table, realizing that hanging around Scarlet and these damn thoughts about her will just pull me back into old habits. Time to keep my distance and get the hell out of here.